Friendly Confession
by RedStalkingDeath
Summary: The majestic visitors had moved on to honour and trouble another household, and things could finally go back to normal. Thomas confides in a friend. Post DA movie.


**Friendly Confession**

* * *

The general consensus downstairs on Friday, was that they'd all had a good time of it. Showing the Royal visitors and their personal travelling household that the servants of Downton Abbey could cook and serve just as well as any arrogant servants that thought themselves as high and mighty as the Crawley family themselves, just because they had the dubious honour of cleaning up after a family of more consequence than them. The downstairs all heartily agreed, though, that it was a great relief to have it all over and done with, and that the majestic visitors had moved on to honour and trouble another household in equal measure. Things could finally go back to normal.

Although, there was _one_ person among them who wouldn't have objected to a much longer stay. Particularly if it meant he could have enjoyed the company of a certain Valet of the Royal Household a little while longer.

Thomas Barrow fingered the chain of the pendant tucked safely in his pocket, and let slip a small, unconcious smile as he thought back – for the hundredth time – to the few stolen moments in his office earlier that day while everyone else was getting ready for the grand departure. He'd been reliving those precious few minutes over and over, at every available moment thoughout the rest of the day. He was still quite baffled by how incredibly happy he felt, not to mention his overall disbelief that it had played out that way at all. Did he not have, at that very moment, the irrefutable proof of the reality of the situation in his own pocket, he might have thought it to be no more than a particularly vivid dream.

"And what about you, Mr. Barrow?" Anna interrupted his thoughts as she turned to the newly reinstated butler, her voice in danger of getting lost in the excited chatter centered around the staff's grand triumph in serving the King and Queen the night before. "How was your evening in York?"

"Well," he began in a lowered voice, at a loss as to how to properly put into words the mixture of pure amazement, absolute delight, crippling fear, overwhelming elation, joyful surprise and hesitant hope he had experienced in such a relatively short space of time. "Let's just say, it was an adventure."

He found himself wearing a slightly bemused expression, still not quite capable of believing his luck – his sojourn behind bars notwithstanding.

"Oh?" the lady's maid said teasingly, friendly amusement shining from her eyes as she observed his unusually bright countenance. "What kind of adventure is that?"

Thomas gave a wry smile in reply, but couldn't quite contain the cheerfulness that lingered at its edges, wanting to break free into a wide grin. He knew he should be more careful, more guarded of his secrets, but he was fit to bursting with joy and wanted to share it with the world. Or – as the world would not welcome such knowledge one bit – at least with a friend. "The kind that starts with fun and dancing, and ends in prison when the police shows up."

"Prison?!" she exclaimed a bit too loudly for the butler's comfort, her smile of a few seconds ago dissolving like smoke in the wind.

"Shh!" Thoma looked around anxiously, making sure no one paid any undue attention to their rather private conversation.

But the others were all following Molesley's regaling of his social faux pas and Her Majesty's kindness with rapt attention.

"I'm sorry," Anna said sincerely. "I didn't mean to cause a stir. But you'll _have_ to tell me the whole story now!"

Thomas paused again, considering.

"As you know, Mr. Ellis went to visit his parents," he began hesitantly, unsure of the wisdom of confiding the illegal and unaccepted parts of his nature to her, or anyone at all. "While I was waiting at the pub, there was this man..."

Anna gave him an encouraging nod when he trailed off and gave her a searching look, and gestured for him to go on with the story.

"Well, he... persuaded me to come with him to this secret bar in a warehouse," he continued when the maid's look stayed open and friendly. "There were music and drinks and dancing and such, and every man in there was _like me_."

Anna's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but there was no trace of either revulsion or disapproval to be found in her. His mouth quirked at the memory of dancing freely with likeminded people.

"I'm glad you got to experience that," she said warmly, taking his hand in her smaller one and giving it a gentle squeeze. Then her brows furrowed in trepidation. "But what was that about the police?"

The butler's expression faded a little at the reminder of the all-encompassing terror of that part of the trip crept back into his mind. He didn't much like to dwell on it. Especially when there was so many other, more enjoyable moments to focus on.

"Then the police," he paused to release a shaky breath. "The police came beating down the doors and arrested us all."

"That's terrible!" Anna's grip on his good hand tightened considerably at his admission. "What happened then? How did you get away?"

Thomas smiled fondly, a bright yet calm little thing, and it was like the clouds of the remembered fear parted to release the full force of the sun through a clear sky.

"Richard got me out," he said softly, before remembering himself, embarrassed by his unintentional informalness. "Mr. Ellis, I mean, of course."

"He did?" Anna asked kindly, ignoring his Freudian slip.

"Yeah," he confirmed on a sigh. "When he came in, waving about his card stamped by the Kind himself, they could do nothing but let me go."

"That was nice of him," Anna said with a grin, studying his expression intently. "I suppose there must be _some_ perks to working alongside 'His Majesty's Page of the Backstairs'!"

The butler snorted in surprise at her comment, and they shared a laugh at the ridiculousness of the condescending man's fancy title.

"So," the maid began with a gentle smirk and a mischievous glint in her eyes as the mirt died down to the occational chuckle. "_Richard_, is it?"

Thomas winced at having been so indiscreet - what would Richard say? Would he ever learn? - but abandoned his burgeoning panic when he met the maid's eyes and saw no reproach, no disgust, only a friendly teasing like she would bestow upon any one of the other staff members at Downton. He could hardly believe how things had changed. He had _friends_ now. He was a valued member – the _leader_ – of the household these days.

But that didn't mean everyone would be as accepting. He let his sharp gaze sweep across the servants' hall again, alert to potentially listening ears or curious eyes pointed in their direction.

"Yeah," he replied at last, satisfied that everyone's attentions were, for the time being, still focused elsewhere.

Slipping his hand out of Anna's loose grip, he reached into the pocket of his jacket to retrieve the gleaming silver pendant he had so recently been given to keep, yet had quickly become one of his dearest possessions. He held it out to the woman gingerly, a tentative offering of a closer confidence than they had enjoyed so far.

"Oh," she said in awed surprise, noticing the inscription adorning its surface. "It's like that, then?"

Thomas nodded mutely.

"I am so happy for you," she declared, beaming at him over the meaningful gift. "It's about time you found some happiness, like the rest of us. And he seems like such a nice man too! Not at all like the rest of them."

He grinned widely, eyes shining, letting the world see some of the emotions he was longing ro let out. "I can't quite belive it, myself, to be fair."

"Do you know when you'll see him again?" she asked as she handed back the keepsake.

"No, but – " the butler stopped short when Andy called his name as he entered the hall.

"Mr. Barrow?" the footman repeated as he reached his side, before continuing. "There's a telegram for you."

"Thank you, Andy," he said as he accepted the message, but waited until the young man had joined the others at the opposite side of the room before unfolding the sheet of parchment to unveil its contents.

GOT TO LONDON ALRIGHT STOP CALLING TOMORROW STOP SEE YOU SOON

The butler shared an indignified – almost giddy – smile with Anna, for once not minding having his pivate business read over his shoulder.

"Well, I guess you'd better believe it then," she announced cheekily. "You're obviously worth more to him than the price of a telegram. I'll say that's as good a sign as any."

And Thomas found, with a certain amount of surprise, that he was inclined to believe her.

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**AN: Because 'Thomas having a friend' is second only to 'Thomas having a boyfriend'. This little story came to me in the shower, and wouldn't leave me alone until I interrupted my shampooing to write it all down.**


End file.
